Feathered Tears
by Candaru
Summary: (MAJOR S2 FINALE SPOILERS!) She had no choice. She transformed without permission. In doing so, her shackles were freed, and the truths of sadness took hold of both her mind and body. (Oneshot, one-sided Gabenath, rated T for implied mental illness caused by using the damaged Miraculous.)


She knew the moment his akuma was gone.

She was running down the stairs even before the power started to leave him. By the time the bubbling clouds of purple finished evaporating, she had already reached the secret compartment and snatched the broken trinket off the shelf.

A tiny creature emerged, awoken by human touch, and shivered in her slender hands with no complaints. It didn't speak a word before it was once again thrust into its hiding spot, activating the peacock broach with a fizzing, blue-tinted burst of light. The new Miraculous holder opened her eyes.

Through his control over her, she could still sense the battle going on. His taunts, so flashy and bold, trying without success to enrage or dishearten one of the superheroes enough to distract them. The arrival of backup, the creation of an impossible web, the fear—

The _fear._ She felt it in him as she felt it in herself, yet it wasn't for naught. The broach on her chest and feather in her hand calmed her, gave her a sense of serenity and peace like she'd never known. The price of sadness had always seemed insurmountable for her; now, she understood. Only with perfect grieving could come perfect peace.

She smiled as she charged the feather with energy, blowing it gently into the wind. It fluttered through the window on her command, and she felt a rush of power as she guided it through the Parisian sky. She felt her master's emotions the moment the feather touched down— _fear, grief, anxiety, distress, sadness, shame—_

"Hawkmoth."

_—shock._

For only a fraction of a moment, the other emotions were replaced with a gasp of air, a sudden rush of emptiness. The emptiness that only total surrender creates— and that a calm, reassuring voice now filled.

"I am Mayura." She smiled as she spoke. Her tone mimicked his, but in a calmer, kinder way. Her voice wasn't to enflame emotions, but to soothe them. "You're up against the wall plagued by your deepest, darkest despair. Let me help you!"

His eyes were wide with fear— a different fear— that had suddenly swept inside him. Panic filled the empty space. Completely opposite to his nature, he pleaded and struggled against the offering of power.

"No— Don't do that—!"

Mayura didn't respond. Her smile was unbroken as she softly continued. Only the creases between her eyebrows showed a glimpse of the sadness that held the source of her power.

"Let your despair be embodied in a powerful protection!"

There was a weak choking at the back of his throat. To say Mayura didn't enjoy the power would have been a lie, but she suggested no such thing. In a moment's time his face grew calm, and he fell to his knees in surrender. The fallen Hawkmoth sighed weakly as an enormous, bug-like creature spawned behind him, flapping his dangerous attackers away in just a few strokes of its wings. Ladybug, ever the hero, was back within a few seconds, but that was plenty of time for Mayura. With expert timing, she snapped her fingers and watched as the purple Protector exploded into a butterfly-shaped cloud of smoke, sending Ladybug hurtling through thin air. The feather flew out of its target, purified, but Mayura let it go. She had no need for it now that Hawkmoth had escaped.

…actually, that was partially a lie. She'd rather have retrieved it, but at the moment she'd have to make do, for only a few minutes and already the power was leaving her veins. Her mouth trembled to keep a smile as all her limbs grew weak. Truths of unbearable pain freed the shackles of her mortal mind, her body hit the floor with a dull _thud,_ and a cooling waterfall of tears blurred her vision just before everything went black.

* * *

"Nathalie? _NATHALIE!"_

His voice was… loud. And aggressive. And everything hurt, ow, _everything_ hurt.

But it had been worth it.

Mustering all the strength she could with a throbbing headache and the feeling of having been run over with a truck, Nathalie forced open her eyelids and flashed a weak smile.

"Sir, I'm… fine."

The man kneeling over her muttered a string of words under his breath that Adrien would've gotten grounded indefinitely for saying, and then swiftly moved his hands under the fallen girl and scooped her up into his arms. He moved as fast as he could with such a heavy burden to carry, but Nathalie couldn't care less. Her eyes remained closed as she listened to the quick beat of his steps, keeping perfect time with her heart.

Despite all her physical pains, she felt that in that moment, nothing in the world would make her move an inch from where she was right then. It was in moments like those, exceedingly rare and far-between, that she closed her eyes and allowed herself to pretend. Allowed herself to submit to gentle touch and not gentility, allowed herself to feel warm, protected, safe, secure— loved.

And make no mistake, she would never dare to impose her fantasies on the reality of the matter. Never once had she deceived herself from where she stood; never once had it really mattered. Her master's plan _would_ succeed— it had to, plain and simple— and all would be well again. The forces of sadness were not something to be reckoned with; a throbbing heart was well worth a home of smiles. She knew this now even better, having experienced the power of the Miraculous and the truths that it revealed. Tears were not something to be wiped away. They were simply something to clean the eyes of any dust, to ensure that they saw clearly and without error. The dark, twisting feelings in one's gut, if purely out of grief, escaped in songs of mourning too beautiful for most people to even comprehend. Blue was the color of both the vast ocean and the endless sky; the twilight always brought darkness and darkness always brought peace. Such were some of the many revelations Nathalie had experienced— and this, only in a few minutes holding of the blessed Miraculous.

He set her down on a chair and she winced in pain at the reminder of how much everything hurt. He glared at her, but the stern lines in his face seemed less rigid, somehow.

"I _told_ you never to use the Peacock Miraculous!"

Nathalie struggled to sit up in defiance.

"I had no choice, sir— I had to save you!" She coughed into her fist, her body screaming at her for taking on so much internal damage all at once. Her master's brow furrowed.

"It's _damaged!_ It's way too dangerous!"

In spite of herself, Nathalie felt a smile tug at her lips. She always prided herself in obedience; now, she felt very proud of herself for defying in just this one thing.

"I want to help you. To the very end." Tears pricked at the back of her retinas, but she realized there wasn't enough hydration left for her to cry. Her body held itself together, despite shaking just from the effort to do so.

The master closed his eyes and sighed, deep in thought. Then he looked up and did something incredibly rare: he smiled.

"Thank you, Nathalie."

He placed a hand on hers and she felt a shiver run up her spine.

"For everything."

She smiled back.

Even as she instructed her mind back down toward reality, the throbbing in her heart was well worth it.

* * *

(A/N: I don't even ship them, nor do I oppose the ship, I'm just caught in an endless web of suffering and enjoying every minute of it) (dsfjljsfkdsf I wrote this last night way past my curfew. send help. or reviews.)


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